Black Raven
by Silver-Kirin
Summary: They say that behind every great man is a woman; so who is behind James Moriarty, the great consulting criminal? With the events unfolding between Sherlock Holmes and Jim Moriarty, one woman stands behind him to carry out his orders and pick up the pieces when they fall. How far will Ciara go to protect him? Behind the scenes following season one and two. MoriartyXOC
1. Beginning

**Hello, this story I have had at the back of my mind for a while for a friend and myself.  
I will try to update this story fortnightly, only because I do not have easy access to the internet. **

**Warning now, there will be some themes and language that may be a little up front but hopefully nothing no one can handle.  
I do not own Sherlock or the characters, only my own.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Beginning

When does life begin?

Sebastian Moran scoffed at the poster, lifting the colar of his coat higher to rest against his cheek bones. The Irish chill was in the air and as much as he was used to it in England, here there was no relief.  
The words on the poster remained on his mind as he strolled through Dublin, a bleak city with nothing interesting than the rolling hills surrounding it. What a ridiculous question; what did it matter when life begins? You're born, you live and you die; when your life began depended on the person.

Flicking his cigarette onto the curb, Sebastian buried his hands in his pockets, strolling along the pathway. He had come here for a job but it never took him long to take down the person he was told to, and now he was stuck here for another week before his boss arrived with a new assignment. He didnt know how he was going to pass the time, maybe some sight seeing but it sure wasnt going to be spent bored and pondering on that over rated, hotly debated question.

A police car was wailing as it sped past him and others on the footpaths; an ambulance not far behind it and while others watched them go past, wondering what had happened; Sebastian Moran was well practiced by now to not lower his head or hide his face. Instead he continued on as usual, maybe watching the car race by him from the corner of his eye but nothing more than that. He knew what it was for, he knew what the paramedics and police would find at the scene, and as always he would not be caught.

'Get here you back alley bitch!'  
Sebastian hesitated in his next step as a young girl ran in front of him, knocking herself to the pavement. The shop keeper was furious as he stumbled over the shelving and stands the fleeing girl had knocked over. Rather than scittering off like a frightened rabbit, the girl glared up at him with determined eyes and leapt to her feet, darting off into the distance. People were mumbling between themselves as the sweaty man managed to get himself to the door, snarling as he looked up and down the street in search of his theif. His eye was black, his nose freshly bleeding and Sebastian had to hand it to the girl; if she did this to a man almost three times her size, she had some guts.  
'Where did that fucking theif go?' he roared at Sebastian. Never had he responded well to being yelled at, but he was trying to keep a low profile. Lifting his gloved hand, Sebastian pointed behind him, the shop keep lifting his baggy pants and taking off after her.

He continued yelling as he checked down each street, not able to find his little culpret. Glancing into the shop, Sebastion scooped up a bottle of water and a sweet bar, not missing the others in the shop taking the same advantage. He continued on, wondering how long it would take for the shop keeper to realise he was going in the wrong direction and that he left his shop un-attened. It made him sad to think that people could be so petty, could be so dim witted that simple things slipped their simple minds. He tried not to think too often that he was better than everyone else; he was only twenty six years old, there was still a great deal he had no idea about but deep down he knew that if this was where he was now, imagine where he could be in years to come?

There was a quiet sniff down one small street; anyone else would have missed it, but Sebastian had already trained himself to take in everything, no matter if he was holding a sniper rifle or out shopping; one day it would save his life.  
Changing course and heading down the cluttered damp street, Sebastian listened for anything but he couldnt see anyone or even hear it any more. He didnt know what he was doing; it could have been a damned rat for all he knew but as he turned around to head back to the main street, the first thing he saw was his gun in young child like hands.

'Why are you following me?'  
Sebastian held his hands up ever so slightly, showing the girl that he wasnt going to hurt her, eyes focussed and furious but they softened when they saw the items in his hands.  
'How did you get my gun?'  
It seemed to be the more important question; he knew she didnt take it from him just now, he was paying too much attention; the shop, a little pick-pocket.

The girl couldnt be more than ten; short and boney with ratty dark brown hair tied back from her pale face with a simple elastic band. Nothing too out of the ordinary for a street kid, but what suprised him was how steady she held the gun at him.  
'I think you should hand that to me before you hurt youself.'  
'Or what?'  
Sebastian tried not to laugh, instead held out the water and chocolate bar to the child, watching as her mouth practically began to water. As she snatched at the items, Sebastian grabbed back his gun, putting the safety back on and slipping it back into its holster at his hip, hiding it with his coat.

The girl devoured the chocolate bar in seconds and sat herself down behind a dumpster, pulling the cap off the water. Knealing down in front of her, she almost growled like some animal but he moved slowly, keeping his face calm and removed his gloves, taking the water bottle from her tight grip.  
'What do you want?' she snapped and Sebastian poured some of the water over her skinned knee, wiping away the grit and dirt from the bleeding wound. The girl gasped, forcing herself back further and covering her legs bare legs with the worn shirt; her faded, holey pants not doing much to keep her warm.  
'I want to help.'  
'Your not Irish.' she pointed out, narrowing her eyes as Sebastian chuckled, holding out a hand, hoping she would take it.

'I'm not. Does that matter?'  
She shrugged, staring at his hand like it was going to grow teeth and bite. Sebastian sighed but remained where he was, dropping his hand to his side.  
'Did you give that shop keeper a bloody nose?' he asked and didnt miss the triumphant smirk on the young childs face. He grinned himself, but this made her recoil a little more.  
'He deserved it you know! Don't take me to the cops, he was the one that touched me!' Absently she rubbed at her arm and Sebastian saw the dark bruise of a hand print on her tiny arm.  
'I'm not going to take you to the police. I'm not going to hurt you, what's your name?'  
There was an intelligance behind the eyes that looked up at him; this girl may be living on the streets but she knew what was going on, she was able to care for herself. Sebastian handed the bottle back to her and she took it carefully, her eyes not leaving his.  
'What's yours?'  
'I'm Sebastian.'

Dark green eyes held his gaze with no weakness; what had happened to this girl? She didn't seem to be the type that should be living on the streets.  
'Ciara. How are you going to help?'  
Her eyes were sharp, watching Sebastians every move as he adjusted his footing.  
'I can take you back to your parents...' he didnt miss the dark shade fall across her eyes as she lowered her head, wringing her hands. Sebastian knew what that meant; he had seen the same look in other children that had also killed their parents.  
'Well, how about you come with me and I can buy you something warm to eat eh?'  
Ciara relaxed her body slightly, her eyes locking back with his and she nodded, getting to her feet with his help. She snatched her hand back quickly but Sebastian began to walk.

Ciara remained still, watching his back and he slowed his pace, waiting for her to make up her mind. He had no idea why he was helping this little lost Irish rat, he couldnt put his finger on it. He knew that it was the right thing to do, he hardly ever did that and who knew, God might wipe away some of the blood from his slate.  
'How can I trust you?'  
'How can I trust _you?_ You might give me a black eye as well._'_ Sebastian said, turning slowly around again as he slipped his gloves on with a smile. Ciaras lips tugged into a smirk and she ran up to him.  
'Nothing funny, just food yeah?'  
Sebatian nodded as he held his hand out, waiting for the girl to take it. Cautiously she did, her hand tiny and cold even through the gloves.

When does life actually begin? Is it the moment of conception, or the moment we breathe air into our lungs for the first time? Is it when we actually understand what and who we are? All Sebastian could really be sure of was that this moment for Ciara was the begining of her life, and even though he had found his somewhere else, this small runt had given that life a bit more meaning, but when does it start? When is the begining? When we do the things and be with the ones we love? Are you left to find life? Sebastian knew he found his when he takes a life, and one day, it would be the same for Ciara.

* * *

**Chapter one, I hope everyone enjoyed it.  
Let me know what you think; keeping in mind that this is my take on the series and if I have changed a characters personality too much just let me know.**

**Thanks for reading!  
Silver Kirin xXx**


	2. Recruit

Recruit

The rooftop was hard beneath her stomach, the coldness clawing through her thick layers of clothing to her skin yet she didn't shiver. She was so used to this routine now nothing would make her even twitch from her position.

Years of military training had taught her the art of being stationary for days on end, the sniper rifle resting gently in her hands. It hadn't taken long for her to get use to the sensation of a gun becoming an extension of her arm, another of her limbs that she could control. She would never get used to the sensation of firing a gun; every single time it was different. Different target, different type of gun, different conditions, it was never boring.

Breathing out slowly, Ciara ever so slightly moved her fingers to make sure the blood would still flow, the last thing she needed was numb fingers hovering over the trigger. They were get ting stiff, the longer she remained lying on the roof as the London air becoming denser with the threat of rain the more uncomfortable she was going to get.  
It was the one thing she did not like about London. Sure it was pretty similar to Ireland, only with more smog and people.

Ciara would never regret leaving.  
This was her home now, whether she liked it or not. Thankfully it was bearable.  
She was ten when she first got on a plane and stepped onto different soil. Everything was different, the accents, the people, the culture and the jobs.  
Sebastian had kept his promise and looked after her and in turn she did as she was told. Most of the time it was working for Jim Moriarty.

There has always been something haunting about Moriarty, he was always there in the corner of her mind. Sure they both came from the same place, but there was something more to it. She grew up under the protection of two men; Sebastian and Jim but only one was the father figure. Jim, he was something different, something intoxicating. Ciara had always been strong, never dependant or like other women; she prefered at least two fights a week and would rather wear jeans and boots than skirts and heels. She could still remember the day Jim and Sebastian came to her, asking for her loyalty. It was a stupid question, they had always had it and she vowed to Jim that she would do whatever it was he needed of her.  
Right now it was for her to lie on the rooftop and watch through her lens as he stood in an office in the opposite building.

He rarely made visits to clients in person, when he did his 'soldiers' knew that it meant trouble. Already the clean-up crew were preparing themselves at the foot of the stairs and another clearing out some of the offices around the windows. They didn't need any more bodies than what was necessary; not that any of his snipers were bad shots, it was more along the lines of being spotted.

Ciara could see everything from this position.  
Jim was still, the occasional tilt of his head as the business man flustered about his office, handing him paper and tossing bits aside, ringing his hands as Jim scanned over what seemed to be useless information right down to the people that were walking casually down the streets either side of the building. Not that they were important, they hardly knew what was going on around them as they worried about work or whether they were going to be lucky enough to get their date home for the night.

That was something that she was grateful for, the gift of being able to be higher than them, and not just literally speaking. Right from the time she was ten her eyes were opened to the bigger picture of the world, all the things she could control and manipulate, all the things she wanted and could get. The world could be hers if she wanted it and when she was thirteen she left Jims side for a few years, training herself and by others to become the weapon that Jim needed, the perfect soldier that she wanted to be in order to help him and thank him and Sebastian for giving her this chance.  
She would not give it up for anything.

Sometimes it was a curse, being so free and yet Ciara could never live a life she had dreamed of. Sometimes she longed for something different, to be someone different even if it was just a day, to be normal and not see the faces of those she had killed every time she tried to sleep.  
Sometimes she cursed the day she met Jim Moriarty and Sebastian Moran

There was a buzz in her ear and Ciara tried to ignore the device resting on the side of her face.  
The noise got stronger and she carefully lifted an arm, brushing aside dark brown hair to fiddle with the mouth piece.

'_Where is my favourite little Irish girl?_'  
Ciara dropped her gaze for a second, sighing and shaking her head with a soft breath of laughter. Fixing the piece in front of her mouth, Ciara repositioned herself and took a breath.  
'What do you want?'  
_'Aww, not even a hello?'_  
Ciara shook her head again, why she could not be sure but she did anyway. She knew that she should ignore him, continue with her job or else there would be consequences but sometimes, often, Ciara liked to be rebellious.

'When did you get back Reo?'  
There was a chuckle in her ear and Ciara was sure she could hear the setting up of a rifle stand.  
_'Not even an hour ago. Miss me?'_  
'Of course.' She smiled, a heavy feeling lifting itself from her stomach. It had been more than two months since she last saw her friend, the constant fear of seeing him arrested on the news or never hearing from him again frightened her. He was so reckless and it made her mad but she could never be angry at him for long when she finally did.

'_So what is it this time? Didn't pay up? Or maybe he decided to back out…?'  
_Ciara watched carefully as Jim moved suddenly, his mouth forming angry words but the business man just yelled back, face contort and angry as paper flew around the room. Her finger pressed harder on the trigger but still Jim didn't give the sign so still Ciara lay.  
'Not sure. Looks like he doesn't have the information Jim wants.'  
_'Pitty. Oh how I missed that stunning voice of yours. You have no idea how happy I am you still have it.'_  
Ciara scoffed, rolling her eyes.  
'I don't change that often. Now shut up, you know Jim doesn't like it when we chit chat.'

There was a snigger at his end and Ciara narrowed her eyes as the businessman ripped open a draw. She was expecting a gun, but it was only a folder.  
_'First name basis with the boss now eh? I think things do change while I'm gone.'_  
'Please, Reo. I have to be somewhere at nine, I'll meet you same place as usual at ten?'  
'_Deal. You're buying.'_

Quickly Ciara reached up and turned off the ear piece, sighing quietly as the silence fell over her once again.  
Across from her, Jim began to pace in front of the window, looking up in her direction.

It had always been first name basis between her and Jim.  
To others it was Boss or Moriarty or whatever alias he went by but for Ciara he was always Jim, or master when he was in a particular controlling mood.  
She couldn't remember it being any other way. He would always be there for her, getting her a job, a home, a life. She owed him so much and even to this day, not just Sebastian, even after everything he had put her through and they had been through together, her heart would still throb.  
They had all come from nothing and created something from scratch that others could only ever dream of creating and controlling.

Every now and then Ciara would have to have a slap of reality when something reminded her that what she was doing was wrong, it was corrupt and evil, illegal and unethical but this was a drug. Others were addicted to dangerous sports, gambling, alcohol or strippers and petty crimes.  
Ciara was addicted to helping her boss in any way possible.

The signal was subtle but it was there and Ciara took aim on the businessman as he hung his head, hands on the desk in defeat.  
Tapping his temple twice, Jim didn't even take a step back as Ciara readjusted the gun. Silencer in place and Jim safely out of the way, Ciara took in a deep breath.  
'_Nár laga dia do lámh.'_  
Then, breathing out slowly, she pulled the trigger.

* * *

Even once she was back at her flat, Ciara didnt relax.  
Her muscles remained on guard, tense and expecting as she unzipped her jacket, tossing it over the arm of the chair and gently placing her rifle safely away in her safe.

Only a little light flooded in from the lights outside, the curtains a light fabric and not fully drawn, just enough for her to make it to the lamp without hitting her knee on the coffee table. Of course she could walk in the dark all night with no need for light but why would you not use it when it was there? With a heavy sigh she stripped out of her damp clothes quickly; not needing to be late for her appointment.

The clothes were dumped on the floor in a trail, Ciara shivering as the cool air crept across her naked skin. Tying her hair up out of the way, Ciara opened up her waredrobe and stared at the numerous clothes that hung neatly; she rarely wore any of these clothes, most of them were gifts from Moriarty. The occasion never really came up to wear any of the elegant dresses or expensive coats and tonight was no different; just a nice cocktail dress and jacket to meet one of Moriartys new clients.

Clothes began to pile onto her bed and Ciara sighed as she settled on a simple black dress. Pulling it on and adjusting the straps, Ciara sat at the end of her large bed, staring at the half empty room, slipping into her heals. The apartment was expensive, she was lucky she didnt have to pay for it, but even if she could and had a choice, she wouldnt ever live in something like this. For years she was on the streets; making home where ever she could find a tossed jacket for warmth or an empty box for shelter; that was her choice. All of this was unnecessary; half the time she was working the other half she was out, then again...  
Ciara stood and stepped closer to the floor to ceiling window, gazing down at the lights of the city; this veiw was something incredable.

'I hope that you put that dress on for me.'  
Ciara just smiled, so use to this routine that she didnt even flinch as his voice reached her ears. Gradually his reflection appeared in the glass beside her own, Ciara sighing as hands gently gripped her waist. Jim pressed against her, resting his head on her shoulder and breathing on her thin neck as he mumbled.  
'Just so I can _rip _it off...'  
Ciara chuckled, spinning free from Jims grip and giving him a smile.  
'No, not tonight. You gave me a job, remember?'  
'You know I can send someone else.' he argued, reaching out to grab her again but Ciara smirked, narrowing her eyes and stepping around him.  
'True but you know the job will be done a lot better and quicker with me.'

Ciara left Jim as he stared out over London, heading to the bathroom and applying some makeup; just enough to touch up her dark eyes and pale skin. She was brushing out her hair, arranging it neatly and kept glancing up at Jims refelection in the mirror as he stalked across to her.  
'Jim,' Ciara sighed after she dragged the lipstick across her lips, not wanting to argue with Jim about doing the job. Instead, he held up her long duffle coat.  
'You'll need this, its getting cold outside.'  
Smiling, Ciara went to take it from him but Jim turned it around, holding it up for her to slip into, and she did. As she adjusted her hair, Jim snaked his arms around her and Ciara allowed herself to relax against him; she had learnt a while before that to resist him would result in more... insistant methods.

'I'll be back before you know it.'  
Jim growled, deep in his throat and Ciara gently pulled away from him. Without another word, Moriarty returned to staring out the window in her bedroom, Ciara scooping up a handbag and making her way to the elevator. She heaved a breath as the doors closed; sometimes Jim scared her, sometimes she was more comfortable around him than others and sometimes she just couldnt control herself.

The restraunt was quite classy, Ciara feeling out of place as she stepped onto the plush carpet and marble floors, glancing around the glowing building. Tables were spaced evenly apart, couples enjoying a meal and a glass of wine; more than half of them dressed like they were going to be meeting with the Queen of England.

With the doorman taking her coat, Ciara did her best to seem like she belonged in this sort of environment, that this was what she was born and raised into. Of course as she walked she noticed people staring, the men leering and the women hating but Ciara relished in that, it made her remember that she didnt belong here.

'I was meeting someone here, reservation is under my name.' she said when a waiter met her at the entrance, his eyes hovering between her chest and her face.  
'What was the name Miss...?'  
'Paulin. Miss Paulin.'  
The man smiled and gestured for her to follow him and Ciara covered her sigh with a flick of her hair. She knew that using a false name came with the job but she always worried that she would forget which one she was using for the day; she could barely remember her own name but it did come in handy to forget who you once were; that person may as well be dead.

'Here you are ma'am, a waiter will be around shortly to take your order.'  
Ciara smiled and pulled out her own chair, smiling at the man who was already tucking into his lobster. His old, plaid hat was still on his head and his cream knitted jumper stood out greatly in the restraunt but Ciara didnt care as she took her seat, the man pointing to her spot as he wiped at the corner of his poorly shaven mouth.  
'You must be Mr Hope.'  
'The pleasure is mine Miss Paulin.'

Ciara tried to act charmed, the truth was this man made her feel uneasy.  
'Did you want to order anything to eat? I highly recomend the sea food.' he asked but she shook her head, instead ordering herself a glass of wine.  
'Straight to business hey? I could tell you were one of those people.' dull eyes stared at her from behind glasses and Ciara grinned and she gently leant back in her chair, waiting for Jeff Hope to continue eating his meal.

'I assume that you have been filled in on why you were called here?'  
Jeff picked at his teeth before dropping his hands to his lap, lifting up his glass to take a swig at the cool beer as Ciara sipped at her wine.  
'I have a rough idea. I was hoping to meet with Mr Moriarty.'  
Ciara placed her glass down gently; it was normally the first question they asked her when she met with clients. Why couldnt they speak with Moriarty, why didnt he make the time to come here himself?  
'He was tied up in another matter, as for ours...'  
Jeff cleared his throat rudely and Ciara paused in her sentence as he sat back comfortably in his chair.

'I know what sort of person you are Miss Paulin, if I should call you that. You walk in here like you own half of the street, dressed in a way to make others uncomfortable because it reminds you that you are different.'  
Ciara smiled at the mans attempt to get under her skin and Ciara drank some larger mouthfuls of her drink as Jeff smirked at her, eyes gleaming like he had achieved something.  
'Yes well, I can see why Moriarty wanted me to meet with you.'  
'And why is that?'

Now Ciara leant forward, smirking softly as he slowly dropped his own.  
'You are a simple cab driver, arent you Mister Hope? But we both know that this can be used in your advantage. You came to Moriarty hoping to solve the problem of your wife, but I am here to give you something else.'  
Jeff was silent and Ciara took that as the sign to keep speaking.  
'Anurism, isnt it?' Ciara tapped her fingers to her own head, the spot where the cabbies was slowly killing him, 'you could die any time, even right now.' Ciara sipped at her wine more easily now, Jeff clearly uncomfortable.  
'And what then? You will be just another divorced man who did nothing with his life, died too young before his time...'  
'Your point?' Jeff snarled and Ciara leant forward more now, drowning out the soft sound of music in the distance and the noise of people eating around her.

'My point, Mr Hope is that Mr Moriarty is willing to give you something if you are willing to give him something.' When he didnt move, Ciara grinned and sat back, pulling out her bag and searching through it.  
'It is quiet simple though, you take a life and we give you a lump sum straight into your bank account.'  
'Take a life?' Jeff growled in a low voice, leaning in more towards her but when Ciara pushed a cheque in front of him, his eyes scanning over the number of zeros, he snatched it up and sat back.  
'Is there any catch?'  
'None what so ever.' Ciara smirked, not missing the hesitation in the man. 'Just think, however you want to do it, as many as you like for as long as you like. What were your childrens names again?'

That struck a cord in the cabbie and Ciara felt her smile grow as the cabbie nodded, slipping the cheque into his jacket pocket.  
'Kaitlyn and Jack? How adorable.'  
'Alright. But what happens if I get caught?'  
Ciara narrowed her eyes on the cabbie and tried to keep the threat from being too heavy in her voice, but when it came to protecting Moriarty or Sebastian or even herself, she would pull his finger nails off with tweasers, flay his skin to make sure it got through his thick skull.  
'You have never heard of the name Moriarty or seen my face. You were acting on your own because, lets face it, you kill because each life you take, is one person you have out lived.'

Jeff nodded and Ciara knew she had hooked him in. It wasnt hard if you found the right people; money could buy anyone and bribe them to do anything.  
Ciara stood, slinging her handbag over her shoulder and smiling down at Jeff as he remained lost in thought.  
'I do have one warning for you though,' she said, the cabbie looking up at her with a dark glare.  
'There is a man, Mr Sherlock Holmes. Be careful of him, Moriarty is a big fan and knows that he makes a habit of ruining our plans. Look him up, you might become a fan to.'  
Jeff nodded but Ciara paused, holding up her finger to keep him silent.  
'Kill Sherlock Holmes, and we'll double the amount we pay you.'

The corner of the mans lips curled into a smile and Ciara smiled as well, inclining her head.  
'Pleasure to meet you Mr Hope. If you have any other queries, please dont hesitate to call me.'  
'The pleasure was all mine.' He gave a toothy grin and Ciara left, gathering her coat quickly and stepping out into the dark night, Londons lights making the streets look ever gloomy as she walked along the path. Glancing at her phone, she relaxed her pace; she still had some time before she met with Reo.

Her thoughts wandered as she walked, watching the black cabs drive by slowly, some heading home, some carrying passanger and others parked waiting on the street. She didnt know why Moriarty was so interested in this one man, but he knew what he was doing, he always had a reason behind everything.  
This Sherlock Holmes seemed to be something else entirely, and even as she thought about this private detective, Ciara could feel that this was going to be something important to Moriarty.

* * *

**Thank you for reading!  
I am not sure if I have the cabbies name right but everything else is all created by me.  
Let me know what you think.  
Silver Kirin xXx**


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